


Brunch with Mummy

by HecatesKiss



Series: BondLock ~ JAQ [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bondlock, M/M, Multi, Q is a Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecatesKiss/pseuds/HecatesKiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not only does Q show up to brunch... so do his brothers and they bring along their lovers to meet Mummy Holmes. Too bad somebody was stupid enough to interrupt the meeting of the Holmes clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brunch with Mummy

Siger leaned forward, “How did you manage royal marines?”

“I simply asked, baby brother.” Mycroft swirled his drink and sniffed. James and Alec both started up from their chairs, Greg, Q, and John only a second behind. Mycroft was a second behind them. John kicked Sherlock and the man came to his feet. 

Livetta Holmes smiled and blushed prettily as Alec pulled her seat back for her. She settled in and then each man took his seat. Alec took a sip of his water and let his eyes track over the room. His collar was slightly damp, but the white material helped hide the fact he’d had to take a fast shower at Six before attending this brunch. James had promised. Hell, they had promised their lover they would make it.

Alec had actually looked right at the moron from psych and laughed, telling the man he certainly had better places to be than picked apart on some fucking paisley couch right out of the sixties. All right, he’d snuck out -- and would probably be on prohibitive psychiatric evaluation until cleared. However, for Siger? He’d gladly ground himself.

Siger reached out paired index and middle fingers and Alec gladly returned the gesture, brushing his over his lover’s reaching ones. 

“Vulcan kisses? Geeky and boring!” Sherlock muttered. The table jumped slightly as John and Lestrade kicked the middle Holmes brother. “Kicking is childish. Inferior mind. I expect it of the Inspector….”

“Sherlock, be nice. Siger did you bring a bodyguard and a boyfriend, dear?”

“No, Mummy. Our baby brother is being shared between two ex-Royal Navy gents. I dare say he is happy.” Mycroft reclaimed his drink.

“Oh. I had hoped…” Livetta frowned for a brief moment as a sadness swam into her hazel eyes.

“Not adopting.” Sherlock blurted.

“Still looking!” Lestrade chimed in, nodding and shooting a frantic look towards Mycroft who blinked.

James smiled ever so slightly. “Unfortunately for both Alec and myself, our jobs keep us far too busy to even consider children at this stage. Siger also puts in very long hours at his post. It wouldn’t be fair to any child we brought into our household at this time.”

“Not to mention the collection of weaponry and hair trigger reactions all three of us have.” Alec muttered into his water. He only smiled when sharp hazel eyes pinned him to the chair.

“James and I were specially trained, ma’am. Siger knows how to not set it off. It is not something I wish a child to have to learn. We still occasionally utilize that training.” 

“Ah. Pity. I do expect at least one of you three to --”

The sound of glass cracking followed by a water glass shattering in Sherlock’s hand was all Siger was able to register before James was on top of him, shoving him to the floor, and kicking the table over. Another bullet thudded into the wall.

“Mother!” Came from two throats. Screams resounded throughout the restaurant. People started running.

“So that’s where the bastard was. Huh.” Sherlock commented from underneath his partner, who had shoved him to the floor. Siger turned his head. Lestrade was rolling off Mycroft, but a cautioning hand was pressing him down to the floor. James hadn’t removed his weight, even as he was scanning.

“Alec?”

“Fine. Are you all right, Mrs. Holmes?”

“Just some crystal. I’m all right.”

“Double-oh Six? Double-oh Seven?” Their Quartermaster asked, voice strict and calm.

“Yes, Q?” Alec and James chorused, matching grins appearing. Their lover was in a froth. Even while pinned to the restaurant floor under one of his ex-Royal Navy gents. They both knew that tone of voice. That tone was enraged but barely controlling it.

“If Alec brought the silver Mercedes ending in VA?” Q paused, more to wrestle his temper down than to wait for the acknowledgment, but he got it. “Good. There are a pair of kits, standard issues. I want whomever that was, alive. Hunt well gentlemen. I shall need him able to speak, so do avoid breaking his jaw, if you would be so kind. And please do bring all equipment back intact.”

James finally allowed his Quartermaster up and tucked him behind a concrete pillar. “Yes, Quartermaster.”

“Alec? Kindly slide me my bag? Smaller leather one James brought me from Malaysia.” Siger called. The bag was slid across the floor into his lover’s reach. James passed it to him. They both heard the thud of another bullet impacting the wall. Obviously the goal was to keep them pinned down.

Livetta was suddenly next to them along with Sherlock and John and Mycroft.Alec slid his fingers along Siger’s again. Siger was already on his tablet and into the wider network, skimming through the CCTV. He knew it was a sloppy hack, more speed and force than finesse, but he’d apologize to Control later.

“Be careful, Little One.” Alec admonished, setting a weight in his lap, under the bag. 

“Alec? Secondary kit in the boot. Standard back pack break down. Ear pieces will tie into my tablet until I can get into the office. And, Agents? All equipment.” 

“Yes, Quartermaster.” Alec murmured, smiling slightly. James glanced at John. 

“I expect you to keep him safe. Get him and his Mother somewhere that qualifies. And Q? Call a car to bring you in. No tube or that ruddy bike you and Alec like.” Neither Agent, nor Sherlock flinched as the lights suddenly went out. More noises of distress were made by the remainder of those still inside the restaurant.

“That was me. And very well.” Siger responded, brushing his fingers with James’ before the Agent followed his partner through the darkness.

“Hacked the cameras?” Mycroft asked. Siger merely nodded and slipped his blue tooth ear piece on. 

“Clumsy that. Control will kick you out in at least five minutes unless they are truly busy and then you may get ten.” Sherlock noted.

“John? I can only get blueprints of here. Kitchen and corridor open out onto an alley. Corridor will give us a blind corner, unfortunately.” Siger said as he glanced up. 

“Right then. Dare I ask if I am the only one armed?” 

“I did not hear that.” Greg muttered.  
“Of course you didn’t. And yes, there is an extra for you, Greg.” Siger lifted his bag to reveal a Makarov and an in waistband holster for it. Mycroft scooped up the weapon without regard to where it lay and passed it to his lover.

“Dead centers with minimal kick. It’s Alec’s prefered tertiary. It is why he left it with me.”

“Browning for primary. Your James was carrying a Walther of some sort.” Sherlock murmured. Siger huffed and blinked as the comms crackled to life. He lifted a hand to his ear.

“Hello Agents. Keep me appraised. Prepared to move. Do let me know when you are in place, Double-oh Six.”

“Understood, Quartermaster.” Alec responded with a soft huff of breath. Siger frowned.

“Double-oh Six? Were you cleared for field duty?”

“No. Nothing worrying, Little One. Promise. Didn’t get shot.” 

Siger ground his teeth. “That does not reassure me. Double-oh Seven? If possible? Do make sure his arse gets back in no worse shape than it already is.”

“As you wish, Quartermaster.” James responded. Siger could hear the smirk on his lips. He pinched the bridge of his nose and nudged his glasses up. Thank god he had listened to Alec when the man suggested shatterproof and scratchproof lenses.

“All right you lot. I’m waiting for a bird’s eye view. I’m sure you have at least two cars waiting in the alley, Mycroft?”

“Four. Two will be decoy.”

“Quartermaster? Be advised, royal marines are dead. Shot was off centered on both. Clean though.” Alec suddenly interjected. Siger closed his eyes.

“Your marines are dead, Mycroft.” Siger said before he lifted his hand again, “Sniper confirmed?”

“Confirmed. Single source of fire. Ah, there you are you yebeni kuchkin sin.” Alec growled.

“Language.”

“Serbian, love.” James chimed in.

“Yes, Double-oh Seven, I am aware of which language he just swore in. Shoulder or knee shot preferable, Double-oh Six. Confirm clear trajectory, please. Remember. Alive.”

“Siger? I have Thames House agreeing to work with Vauxhall.” Mycroft muttered. Siger nodded.

“Let them know that the clumsy entry was my fault due to speed and we’ll talk fix later. They can have credit as well.”

“Q? He’s down and --” James abruptly stopped talking as the other man started cursing again about his knee. “Put pressure on it, wanker.” 

“That’s an Ulster accent. Bag him and do try not to get much blood on the seats?” Siger sighed. He then flipped screens and restored power to the restaurant.

Lights flickered back on. He tucked his tablet back into his bag and shouldered it. He glanced at Mycroft and nodded.

“Straight back, through the red swinging doors. Through the kitchen and then out a door.” Mycroft said. Siger, Sherlock, and John all nodded. Lestrade just sighed.

“John on rear guard. Lestrade on point, Siger, you in the middle -- since I know you also carry.” Sherlock said.

“Mother? Between Siger and I, if you please.” Mycroft said. She nodded and squared her shoulders as Siger pulled a Browning from the back of his slacks and checked it.

“Original shooter in good hands, so if we encounter anyone else? An escalation of force is acceptable.” Siger murmured. Both of his brothers nodded. Their partners blinked in confusion for a second. Then both Greg and John’s eyes cleared and hardened.

“Understood.” 

The group moved through the route with ease, only startling two servers and much of the kitchen staff. Siger shook his head and passed an aproned server cash as Sherlock grabbed a take out container and quickly spooned Khao na pet into it. He shook his head and nudged his middle brother forward as the man also grabbed a spoon and a pair of disposable chopsticks. 

The server took the money without question and nodded slightly. Siger kept the hand full of weapon shielded by his side.

Siger and John both swore when a bullet sent brick fragments spitting into their faces. A line of fire bloomed across Siger’s right shoulder. 

“Shooter!” came from three throats.

Siger had dropped into a defensive position. They had another shooter. Siger folded himself neatly behind a bin, and John crouched near the first car.

“Fifth floor, cross the way, left hand side. Glint missing bottom corner.” Sherlock called from his position behind a set of crates. Siger lifted his hand to his ear.

“Alec? Tell me you are still on a roof.”

“Yes, Quartermaster.”

“Blue building across the way from the restaurant, facing the alley. Fifth floor, far left hand, bottom corner. Second shooter.”

“Not for long, Little One. Permission to take the shot?”

“Mycroft?” Siger called, twisting back towards the door, which was propped open a crack,

“Yes. Bloody fuck, yes.” Mycroft responded, voice edged with shattered glass.

“Fire at will.” The Quartermaster snapped, voice cool. He heard the shot from Alec’s end. He watched the glass splinter and fall in a myriad of shards along with a body. He allowed himself an instant for a feral smile before Sherlock slowly came to his feet and moved towards him, chopsticks, spoon, and container of food still in hand.

“Siger? You are bleeding.” 

“Probably just brick. Let’s get Mother in the car and out of any potential line of fire.” Siger said. Sherlock blinked and looked towards John. The doctor nodded once. Siger turned back towards the door.

“Let’s go.” John called. Siger and Sherlock both waited for their mother to be tucked into a vehicle along with John. Sherlock handed their mother the container of food and the spoon and chopsticks. Siger took his place next to her and the door was shut as he slid the weapon back into his trousers. 

Siger lifted a hand to his ear, “Double-oh Six? Return to Headquarters for debriefing.” They watched Greg hustle Mycroft into another vehicle and then watched it pull away. 

“Affirmative, Q.” 

Siger flinched when John leaned forward to tug at his jacket. The car began moving.

“Come on Sig. Suit jacket off. I need to see if it is more than just fragments.” John murmured, moving a bit as Sherlock fumbled into the bag he always carried.

Siger blinked, not having expected John -- of all people -- to use a childhood nickname. Yet he eased himself out of the jacket. He heard their mother choke on a gasp. Siger turned his head and paled. The white dress shirt’s right shoulder was sodden with blood and it was soaking down into the sleeve.

“It seems I have been shot.”

“We should get you to hospital, at once!” Livetta exclaimed. Sherlock snorted and shook his head.

“No, Mummy. Siger will prefer his own medical personnel, the same way Mycroft does. We are also closer to Vauxhall than St. Barts.”

“Yes it does. Hmm. Any diseases I need to be worried about?” John asked as he took an antiseptic spray from Sherlock and coated his hands. He then slipped on an individual packed pair of latex gloves with a professional little snap.

“I’m up to date on all various bits in medical. Nothing communicable in my system.” Siger said, blinking again as his mind tried to kick into panic mode. Then he remembered what both of his lover’s had said on multiple occasions -- _remain calm, slow down your breathing if you can, and get to medical treatment when you are able_.

He also remembered Alec’s irreverent quip, “And try not to poke your finger into the resulting hole.” Mind, that had been directed more at James... but the advice was sound.

“Might I rip the shirt?” John asked.

“Go ahead.” Siger murmured. He blinked when John merely grabbed and pulled. Silk tore. He sighed as cooler air traced over his shoulder. He grunted when John’s hand moved around to the back of his shoulder, probing.

“I don’t feel an exit wound. Are you having trouble breathing?” John asked.

“No. Advice from James and Alec. I’m remaining calm. The pain is now registering. Holy fuck this hurts.” Siger squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself one gasp of pain before he ruthlessly shoved it aside again. “Sherlock? Tell the driver to head for the parking garage near Vauxhall. If this is one of Mycroft’s usual drivers, she or he will know which one.”

Siger watched his brother do what he was told for once. He then leaned into John’s fingers and tried to fish his mobile from his pocket. John frowned for a moment, but then allowed it. Siger tossed the phone to Sherlock.

“Third contact from the bottom. Text exactly this, “Need medical on standby Entrance J. Five minutes out. GSW to right shoulder. Quartermaster involved.”

Sherlock again did as told and then handed back the mobile. 

“Siger? Do you want to text Alec and James?”

“No, Mummy. If I do that, they will be waiting for me and terrorizing the doctors. That will happen soon enough as it is. I’d rather not them do that any sooner than needed.”

“All right.” His mother subsided back into the seat, eyes fixed on her youngest with a worried frown pinching her brows. He let her take his uninjured hand and cling. He felt the way she trembled and wondered how much was adrenaline and how much was concern. Sherlock and Siger both knew that look. They exchanged a mutual grimace of long remembered, truly horrible chicken soup.

Arrival at the correct level of the parking garage was smooth. Siger fished out his badge and swiped it. He nodded to the familiar doctor that was waiting for him -- she usually treated James and Alec because nothing they said or threatened could phase her, and he really liked that fact.  
“Gun shot wound to the shoulder. Not sure if it fragmented or not, but it didn’t do a through and through. He hasn’t said much about the pain --”

Doctor Leslie Parks snorted. “He wouldn’t. He’s involved with those two morons. They probably taught him pain suppression techniques.”

“Actually, I taught them a thing or two. Growing up with that one and my eldest brother taught me a few things at least. And yes, Leslie, I will take the stretcher.” Siger said, hand pressed over the ruined, balled up, bloody mass of silk.

“All right. X-rays and then most likely surgery to fix that, Q.”

“Yes, Doctor. And where are my two morons, as you called them?”

“Debriefing with M, sir. That should keep them occupied long enough to get that out of your shoulder. Would you prefer to stay awake for that, or should I put you under?”

“Considering I can tolerate pain as well as James, but would rather not have to? Gas please.” Siger said, settling himself comfortably on the gurney. “Oh, and do make certain my brother is escorted from Six please. If we don’t, you’ll never get rid of him. And ‘Lock? Mess with any of my stuff and I swear on father’s grave, your credit rating will not recover until the next ice age!”

The feeling of a needle against his arm had him glaring up at the doctor with a look of betrayal. She only smiled softly and Siger slid into unconsciousness with a slurred oath in Russian that would have made Alec proud.

***

“Welcome back, Little One.” Alec murmured as the Quartermaster blinked owlishly up at the dimmed overheads of Medical. He grimaced. Something faintly hurt and he was pretty sure something had died in his mouth. A very familiar hand appeared holding a small orange bucket shaped like a rubbish pail with a red dart frog sticker on the side. He opened his mouth and a few ice chips were slipped past his lips.

“She had to give you something that makes swallowing a little difficult for a bit. Chips are best. Alec even ran home and got your ice bucket, love.” James soothed. Siger blinked twice to show he understood.

“The doc only wants to keep you for another hour. She’ll be in to talk to you shortly. You’ll have a bit of a scar, and some physio. With Ralf. We tried to get Danica --”

Q frantically shook his head at that and then froze as his shoulder was jarred. Bright spots of pain gouged into his mind. He hissed in pain and made a soft noise.

“All right, no Danica.” Alec promised. Q nodded slowly, mindful now of his shoulder. He blinked and smiled a bit goofily, he was sure, when he realized that Alec’s fingers were settled on his elbow, tracing gently up and down his arm.

The doctor was more of a formality than anything else -- that and she had his pain medication. He nodded along to most of the orders, ,rolled his eyes about not working for at least a week, and only blushed when James asked pointedly about sex.

“Not with either of you for a week. Nothing strenuous. You don’t want those stitches tearing. You’ll be in a sling for a bit, Quartermaster. I will want to see you in three days. And? Either James or Alec brings you in for checks -- or you use the car service. No motor bike until that arm is healed. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Leslie.”

“Good. Call or turn up if there is any sign of infection, don’t get it wet for the time that is written on the sheet and -- if these two think you should come in, come in. We’d much rather you safe here at Six than delirious on a couch somewhere in the city.”

“Yes Doctor. As you wish, Doctor. And no, Alec -- you are not carrying me!” Q huffed. Alec pouted for a few seconds but lifted placating hands when he caught sight of the glare.

As the trio was walking out of medical -- properly cleared for once, the Quartermaster’s plaintive voice drifted back, “Can I actually get Kaeng khiao wan in bed, since I got shot at before I could order?”

“And as much jasmine tea as you want.” James responded before the doors swished shut.


End file.
